I do not think, truly, that any wish to hear they are ungenerous in any fashion. Whether by standards their own or those of their peers and yet I was not entirely surprised to hear this of myself. As I have already said I am a selfish man by design, even despite the way I must surely appear. I know this of myself, I accept it and yet I cannot help but ponder it all the same. After all, I am rarely given to ponder anything for I am afforded neither the time nor the capability and yet as I have already said I believe that is truly a blessing. It would be an utter cruelty, on every level, were he afforded the ability to truly think only to be trapped in a body that will not allow him. It is a small mercy on some level that he cannot, though he often finds himself frustrated by the capabilities of the damaged mind neither of us are capable of escaping and yet that provided us with each other all the same. Such is life, I suppose. Though I do not bring myself to regret it or any of its choices as obscure as they might seem to either of us at the time. To hear that I am often given to wake Raven from her sleep to demand food however is perhaps...less then pleasing to my mind. Why he does it I don't know, not fully, though I know the night bothers him. It is long and agonizing in its silence and lacks stimulation. In the quiet he remembers and he dislikes to remember. It is perhaps the reason I ...we...whatever it is I am get along so well with Aiden. Neither of us like to remember and yet neither judges the other for it. It is a perfectly harmonious companionship and one I would be loath to ever lose. I need him- like I need air, he needs him even more. Strange perhaps, but true. Friendship after all is a terribly fleeting thing, as difficult to hold as fractured light and as fragile as a spiders web yet so desperately necessary to all beings.

"I am hungry, I think, at obscure hours because I take it upon myself to patrol the ship in the evenings when everyone else is asleep. I enjoy being alone, sometimes, although perhaps I might suggest merely leaving food about so I don't wake you for it. I am....it would seem- somewhat a demanding boyfriend."

I frowned slightly, the gesture unusual and yet natural all at once, to be in control of my expressions a rather satisfying thing that brought a smile to my lips all before it became apparent I apparently lacked any sort of pyjamas at all, the pale golden brown of my gaze flicking from myself to my companion and back once more in realisation.

"I don't know why I didn't either."

I wonder sometimes, about my choices, especially over such seemingly trivial things as my apparent refusal to wear actual night attire. I suppose though, since it seemed I took pleasure in patrolling the ship of an evening that pyjamas were decidedly foolish to wear to bed. In fact, o wear clothes was....logical in a manner I had not anticipated. Brilliance and madness, as they say, go hand in hand. It took barely a moment to settle myself upon the ground and out of the wind, one hand held out for Raven, encouraging the woman to join me and finding myself thoroughly pleased when she did, seating herself beside my form. In truth I would have desired a further closeness and yet I knew of her reservations in that, merely satisfying myself with a hand resting upon her knee. It was a possessive gesture in a fashion, even if there was no other here to possess her from and yet I was unashamed of it all the same. She was, well, my woman after all- prehistoric as that sounds. She was mine and I liked that and I hardly cared not to entertain myself with the thought as she seemed to consider her own questions. Her hand reached for my own free one, willing enough to let her have it, the manner in which she brushed her thumb across it one I remembered distinctly.

"You always do that."

It was little more than a murmur, my youthful features frowning slightly at the memory that teased at my mind, raven taking my hands so many, many times and I found I remembered near each of them. It was the sensation I suppose, the tactile response linked to memory that so seemed to bring it to the forefront of my mind as I leant towards her once more. My head titled ever so slightly, lips brushing against her cheek once more, dropping lower to caress her neck before my teeth found her skin. In either form, it would seem, I truly cannot help myself. It was a brief, fleeting gesture, wary of the woman's discomfort of touch before my gaze met her own once more and a look decidedly...cheeky, I think, touched my features.

"I like when you do that."

Had he ever told her that? Did he ever assure her of how much he liked her own touch or the closeness she offered? Did she know how I enjoyed her presence in the bed we shared at night? Had she ever been told or did she simply love so eternally and potently that these things she deserved, as any woman did, simply did not matter to her? When her question came it was unexpected, if only because even I did not fully understand the answers, one hand resting on her knee still as she leant into myself all the more.

"I see what he does, yes, most of the time anyway- there are moments when I cannot reach him at all. As for he, I cannot say what he sees but he holds no memory of these times I do not think. I cannot explain it or control it, I think there is little you could do."

I felt my voice waver slightly, displeased I could not promise her more than that and yet how could I assist her with something I did not understand myself? It was what it was, she as surely doomed as I was to repeat this cycle of switch and change as I sighed softly once more, watching the girl beneath lashings of dark hair. How was it so she could love both sides so equally? Did she not seek one or the other? Would she, one day? Ah- to be plagued with such human worries, it is strange, truly.

"Yes, I have a question."

I paused, words soft once more, deep baritone smooth in the darkness, the tone one even I was unused too in its depth and vibration- my gaze moving to meet her own once more as the faintest of simpers touched my lips once more.

"Does he tell you he loves you?"

madness, as you know, is like gravity: all it takes is a little push